


As You Mean to Go On

by tuesday



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Background Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-05-20 12:23:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19376638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesday/pseuds/tuesday
Summary: In which Natasha breaks cover on purpose.  A mildly canon divergent AU that mostly sticks close to canon until it doesn't.-Ostensibly, she's supposed to evaluate Stark for the Avengers Initiative and keep an eye on his deteriorating health, see if he's actually getting anywhere on the cure he's surely working on.  In practice, Natasha knows that what Fury wants, Fury will get, and that includes Stark on the team.  She's not there to judge his suitability.  She's there to figure out what approach to take.





	As You Mean to Go On

**Author's Note:**

  * For [newyorktopaloalto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/newyorktopaloalto/gifts).



> Recip, I started with your "Natasha breaks cover on purpose in IM2" Nat/Tony prompt and went from there. All your prompts were great! I hope you enjoy.
> 
> This leans more on Nat/Tony than Pepper/Nat/Tony, but hopefully includes a good mix. It is very canon compliant (with a little bit of a "in the background/deleted scenes" focus) until it is not.
> 
> I think the tags and canon pretty well cover things for warnings and content advisories, but if you have any questions or special concerns, please feel free to ask.
> 
> Redating for reveals. Sorry if you somehow manage to see this twice!
> 
> Personal notes: OPD: 6/27. OAD: 7/6.

They'll be teammates. Natasha knows that going in. Ostensibly, she's supposed to evaluate Stark for the Avengers Initiative and keep an eye on his deteriorating health, see if he's actually getting anywhere on the cure he's surely working on. In practice, Natasha knows that what Fury wants, Fury will get, and that includes Stark on the team. She's not there to judge his suitability. She's there to figure out what approach to take.

Natasha needs to get his attention, get a little closer. Presenting the contract for transferring the position of SI's CEO to Pepper Potts is her first opportunity. Natasha opens with an extra button undone, a sway to her walk, and a small smile, like she's sharing a secret with Stark. Stark stops what he's doing when she rounds the corner. He's wide-eyed and intent despite Hogan trying to get his attention. It's a start.

But they'll be teammates. There's a disparity here between what he is and what he'll become. Right now, he's a mark—but he's also the man she's trying to bring over. If she does her job right, they're going to be on the same side.

Clint told her something early on, right after he'd recruited her, when she wanted to know why he was being so nice to her. It wasn't like he had to keep being sweet; SHIELD already had her.

"Start as you mean to go on," Clint said. "We're teammates, and I'd like to think we're friends, even if I'm moving a little fast for you."

Stark will be a teammate. Maybe he'll be a friend. Natasha doesn't want to start with lies. If Stark doesn't know, he will soon enough. Maybe she should help get him there.

When Stark waves her into the ring, Natasha goes. She makes sure Stark is watching and takes Hogan out in one smooth, practiced motion. She can't tell if Stark knows for sure, but from his reaction, if this were a honey trap, she'd already have him pinned.

(It may not be a honey trap, but the thought of Stark pinned beneath her, head between her thighs, is a surprisingly pleasant one. It almost makes up for having to deal with Stark in full meltdown.)

—

She's hired on as Stark's assistant. She anticipates his needs, adjusts his schedule as directed, and is generally competent, professional, and above reproach. She also observes him at every available moment. He looks worse. His skin is sallow. When no one is looking at him, he deflates a little, lets himself look tired. If his collar slips, she can see alarming lines creeping up toward his neck.

At one point, she catches him with his head in his hands. She leaves and comes back, louder this time. When she walks in the office, he has his head up, a bright smile pasted on.

"Ready, Mr. Stark?" she asks.

"I was born ready," Stark says.

In some ways, it's the truth. He was gracing magazine covers at four years old. He grew up with the press and learned early on how to work a room, even if he sometimes chooses sarcasm over charm. Hiding dizzy spells and papering over any and all weakness is second nature. Natasha can appreciate that sort of protective subterfuge. Stark has more going for him than a pretty face and the smug certainty he's the smartest person in the room. Despite their differences, Natasha finds herself relating a little too well.

Natasha offers Stark a hand up. He takes it.

—

"I'd do whatever I wanted," Natasha says on the day of Stark's birthday party, "with whoever I wanted to do it with."

Stark smiles at her. He looks like he's considering asking her to cancel the party. After a moment, that passes, but the feeling between them—that sense of understanding, of comradery—stays. She didn't expect it, but she really does like him; she thinks they'll work well together.

"Hey," he says. "How would you like to see the Iron Man armor?"

"I'd love to," she says.

—

Stark lets her fire the gauntlet while it's attached to him, hooked into the arc reactor over his heart. His hands are warm. The calluses on them feel nice where they catch against her skin. None of that distracts her from the rest of it.

They're at the party in a crowd of people. It's less than ideal. Stark knows better when it comes to weapons safety. She suspects he's gearing up to something. He's been drinking like someone who knows they're about to make a terrible decision, is determined to make it anyway, and needs a little liquid courage to push them over the edge.

He suits up all the way. Natasha really doesn't like where this is going.

James Rhodes goes downstairs and suits up, too. The biometrics let him in. He doesn't seem to notice that it's Stark's birthday, but Rhodes is the one getting a gift.

Natasha makes an exit when the fighting starts. She calls Fury.

"He's giving up," she says.

Fury is quiet for five full seconds. "I'll be there in the morning."

When Rhodes flies off in his shiny new armor—no paint, a blank canvas for him to lay out his own colors—Natasha walks back in. There's shards of glass and broken furniture everywhere. Stark is sitting in the wreckage of his living room. He's got the helmet off. There's blood in his teeth when he smiles up at her.

"Didn't think you were coming back," Stark says.

"Are you done?" Natasha asks.

"Yeah." Stark's voice is heavy. "I'm done."

"No, you're not," Natasha says. She offers her hand.

Stark stares at her. Natasha is beginning to wonder if she's miscalculated when he takes it, gauntlet cold against her skin. She doesn't take his full weight—couldn't if she wanted to—but he stands.

"No, I'm not," he agrees. His expression is calculating. "Let me know if I'm crossing a line here. Seriously, stop me if you've heard this one before or would rather not hear it at all."

He leans in. Not all the way. She could easily pull back, walk away, let him laugh it off.

He's dying, Natasha thinks. Give him this.

(She's self-aware enough to know it's not just that he's dying—she wants to take this for herself, too.)

Natasha closes the rest of that distance, brushing their lips together, closed mouth and sweet, light as the hope she wants to rekindle in him. He closes his eyes. Natasha keeps hers open.

She thinks he knows. She hopes he knows. Surely, surely, he has to know.

—

In the morning, Tony says, "Hey, I want donuts. You want donuts?"

"Sorry. I have a prior commitment," Natasha says. It's time to shed this skin.

She presses one last kiss to his mouth before she goes. Tony's smile is open, fond, delighted even though she's leaving him behind. His hair is a mess. She wants to stay and smooth it out—or maybe mess it up a little more. The mental image of his head between her thighs was nice before, when they met, but the reality turned out to be even better.

"Hate to see you go," Tony says.

Natasha quirks a smile, small, private, like she's sharing a secret. It feels real this time. "But you love to watch me leave?"

"I wish we'd met sooner," Tony says.

"I'm glad we didn't," Natasha says. She wouldn't want Tony to have met the Black Widow when she was a fresh graduate of the Red Room or even when she was first adjusting to SHIELD. She doesn't think she'd have liked Tony Stark as much pre-Iron Man, either. Tony may be dying, but this is probably the best they'll get.

"Ouch." Tony holds a hand over his heart.

"I'm glad we met now," Natasha offers, and it's the truth.

 _It's the truth_.

—

It's why it hurts so much when she sees the betrayal on his face at the donut shop. Natasha's been at this for a long time, her entire life, but she's not above making mistakes. She thought he knew.

Maybe he did; maybe he didn't want to.

She thought even on the off chance he didn't, he'd forgive her, call her Natasha with a wry smile and a knowing wink. He'd accept SHIELD's help—the help he sorely needs—if for no other reason than desperation.

He calls her Natashalie, and she spells it out in her head, wonders if he'll ever be able to forgive the lie. He accepts their help only when it's forced on him.

There's something oddly satisfying in jabbing the injector into his neck.

—

(They do overcome it. It takes a while.)

—

When Tony sees her working for Pepper—who, it must be said, is a much better boss and a hundred times easier to keep on schedule—Natasha thinks he just might scream. He's not in a place to appreciate that there's more going on right now than his own impending would-be death and the resultant mental health spiral. His feelings might be hurt, but Natasha has a job to do, and it's been expanded to include making sure his company keeps running in his necessary absence.

(Natasha will never admit it aloud, but her feelings are kind of hurt, too. It's fine. She's fine. It's not like it was ever going to go anywhere. Natasha doesn't do happily ever after, especially not with dying billionaires.)

Then, of course, there's everything with Vanko.

Pepper, at least, takes the reveal with a sense of equanimity. She and Natasha talk one last time after the expo. Coulson would normally be Pepper's point of contact for SHIELD—they have a firmly established cordial relationship—but he's in New Mexico, so Natasha's sent back for the debriefing.

"Let me know if you ever get tired of the spy business," Pepper says when they're done. Her smile is small, but genuine. It doesn't look like she thinks her attempt to poach Natasha will work, but she's going to make the attempt anyway. Natasha can admire that sort of determined optimism. There's a lot about Pepper to admire, really. "SI's always looking for competent people."

"I'll keep that in mind," Natasha says.

Pepper takes the gentle rejection with a handshake. Unlike Tony, her hands are smooth, manicured. The handshake is professional, perfunctory. The touch doesn't linger.

—

"What do you think?" Fury asks Natasha during her own debriefing.

"I think he'll be a pain in the ass," Natasha says. "And that he'll be worth every second of it."

"You like him," Fury says.

"I wouldn't go that far," Clint throws in his two cents.

Ever professional, Natasha nudges him under the table with her foot. He pushes back. She'll miss him when he's in New Mexico and she's stuck in DC. Forced downtime between missions where possible is her least favorite aspect of working for SHIELD.

"You like him," Fury repeats, ignoring their byplay. He picks up a file, pushes it at her. "Think it'll work?"

She looks it over. It's little changed from what she helped draft, inaccuracies and all. "He won't join right away. Especially not if he knows I'm on the team."

"But he will join?"

"When there's a big enough threat, yes." Natasha hands the doctored assessment back to Fury.

Tony reacts to it about as expected.

—

There's a big enough threat. They counter it. Afterward, they go out for shawarma.

"Pepper's going to kill me," Tony says when they're almost done eating.

Natasha stifles the urge to swallow with an empty mouth, a reaction trained out of her long ago. She takes another bite.

Mostly, they eat in silence. She's grateful. She can't believe it's possible to miss something you barely had _this much_ , but she's always learning new things. Those who don't adapt die. Natasha's adapting.

And hey. At least the shawarma's pretty good.

—

The Avengers go their separate ways after tying up all the loose ends, but Tony lets them know they're welcome any time.

"Even me?" Natasha asks.

"You're an Avenger, aren't you?" Tony says.

He offers his hand. She takes it.

—

"What's the deal with you and Tony?" Steve asks her when he's done with his cross-country American road trip and officially joins SHIELD. They're sparring in a gym in the Triskelion. If he's hoping to distract her, he'll have to do better.

"There's no deal," Natasha says.

"If you say so," Steve says agreeably. He fakes going high, but Natasha doesn't fall for it. She goes for his ankle, but doesn't get the necessary leverage, and he doesn't go down.

"I do." Tony's with Pepper now. They seem happy. Natasha hopes they're happy.

"Okay, so what's Clint's deal?" Steve asks. "When he's not on a mission, he disappears. Does he ever stick around?"

"Maybe he likes being mysterious," Natasha says. If Clint wants Steve or anyone else to know about his little farm in Missouri, he'll tell them.

Natasha gets a hit in that would have felled anyone without super soldier serum running through their veins. Steve grunts and almost gets an arm around her neck.

"Message received," Steve says. "What _do_ you want to talk about?"

"You remember when you threw me during the invasion?" Natasha says. "Want to practice how much lift we can get?"

Steve does. They have fun. Natasha thinks they're well on their way to becoming friends.

—

Natasha's out of the country when Tony's mansion is blown up, when he's declared missing, presumed dead, and when he pops back up with Rhodes to save the president. Once she's been debriefed, the first thing she does is call, but he's in surgery.

She has no messages.

—

(Sometimes she wishes they'd met later, instead.)

—

Tony contacts Natasha after she, Steve, Sam, and Maria crash a helicarrier into the Potomac and two more into the ground and everything and everyone that had been standing on it. Natasha wasn't expecting to hear from him, but she's happy to take the call. It's the only thing she's happy about right now.

Her ledger has more red in it, even if she did the best she could as events unfolded. It's a cold calculus, and her initial, impressive death toll is rising higher with every report of a SHIELD agent undercover or on an op who didn't get word their cover was blown in time. She's trying desperately not to think of all the people whose fates remain unknown.

"You couldn't call me?" is what Tony opens with.

Natasha's sitting on a thin mattress in an apartment she rents under another name and barely stepped foot in until now. She doesn't want to be here, but Fury sent her home. She should be sleeping, but she's used to ready rooms, to safe houses, to places where she thought she was surrounded by friends or at least allies. None of them were safe and most of them—safe houses and supposed friends and allies alike—are gone.

"You're out. You've been out since you had heart surgery," Natasha says by way of explanation.

"Is this a quid pro quo for holding back important information?" Tony sounds offended, almost suspicious. "Because I think a Nazi offshoot about to take over the world after infiltrating your super secret organization rates a little higher than something that was practically an outpatient procedure."

"Tell me you wouldn't have climbed right in your armor and fought your way into a heart attack." Natasha is alone, but she resists the urge to put her head in her hands. No point in developing bad habits now.

"I wouldn't have had a heart attack. Wu does good work." Tony pauses. His voice is softer when he says, "I'm not out. I put your name on the building."

 _Your,_ Tony says. An entity separate from him. The Avengers and Tony Stark, two circles failing to overlap in the Venn diagram of life.

"Tony." Natasha lets a little of her own wistfulness leak through in her voice along with amusement. "You're out."

"Then I want back in." Tony is insistent, seems sure of his choice.

"Does Pepper know?" Natasha asks instead of any of the number of other things she wants to say. None of them matter. Not now.

"She caught me building new armor a week after I blew up the old ones," Tony says.

Natasha expects that's about a week after he started work.

"Are you okay?" Tony says when Natasha lets the silence stretch a little too long.

"Of course," Natasha says.

"Good to know you can still lie to me," Tony says. It's not cutting. It's almost fond.

Natasha doesn't cry. She's been at this business too long for that.

"Come over. We'll order dinner. We can catch up."

Natasha wants to. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Of course it is. I came up with it."

—

Natasha comes over. Pepper greets her with a hug. Tony shakes her hand.

"You really are welcome any time," Pepper says. She tucks a strand of hair behind Natasha's ear. Pepper's own hair is pulled back. Her outfit is immaculate. Her make-up is on point. She looks untouchable, pristine, perfect.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Natasha says for the second time that evening.

Natasha's been queen of bad ideas lately. (She was a Russian spy. She doesn't have SHIELD to protect her anymore. She just told Congress to go fuck themselves.) When Pepper's hand lingers, Natasha doesn't pull away.

"Tony," Pepper says, and there's understanding in her eyes. She must know Natasha wants this. Natasha hasn't bothered to hide the longing in her eyes, the need burning low in her gut. "Why don't you help Natasha with her coat?"

Tony's hands are warm at Natasha's shoulders. She doesn't shrug him off, either.

There's a bedroom at the tower that doesn't have her name on it, but it belongs to her nonetheless. Natasha doesn't sleep there—but she does stay the night.

—

In the morning, Clint calls.

"Why is it every time I go on a long-term solo op, things go to shit?" He sounds out of breath, but not in pain. "You guys couldn't wait a couple more weeks to blow up SHIELD?"

It's poor discipline, but Natasha lets herself slump with relief. Pepper's asleep, but Tony stirred awake when her phone started buzzing. He watches Natasha through slitted eyes. A half-smile plays about his lips. When Natasha puts a hand out, he enfolds it in both of his.

"You know how it is," Natasha says, keeping her voice level, cheerful. "A really good explosion waits for no man. Not even you."

"How are you holding up?" Clint asks, his voice pitched low in concern.

Natasha looks at Pepper's hair spread across the pillow, at Tony's growing quizzical expression. "I'm okay." And if she's not, she's confident she'll get there eventually. "What about you? Please tell me you're late for your check-in because you wanted to wait until you were safe at home."

"I could, but you get really mad when I lie to you."

Tony makes a gesture, so obviously listening in, and Natasha asks, "Do you need an extraction?"

"Extraction? No. A ride?" Clint pauses. "Yes, please. Hell, I'll even take a working credit card. Kind of hard to hitchhike over an ocean."

Tony lends Natasha a jet.

—

"Stark?" Clint asks after Natasha picks him up. "Really?"

Natasha doesn't say anything. It's as good as an admission of guilt.

"I mean, Potts, okay. I can see that. She might make it worth it. But _Tony Stark_?"

"People who smell like the inside of a dumpster don't get to judge me," Natasha says.

"I can shower away the evidence that yes, I had to hide in a dumpster for a day or three. Your taste, though, remains in question." Clint looks over at her and does a double-take. "Oh. Oh, no. You actually like him. Both of them." He pulls a face, equal parts disconcerted and sympathetic. "That's going to be a disaster."

"I appreciate your support," Natasha says dryly.

"I do support you." Clint pats her shoulder, careful not to jar the wheel. "Even when you're making terrible life choices." He repeats, disbelieving, "But Stark? Really?"

It's a long flight home.

—

Things are good for a while. Really, really good. Not perfect, but Natasha appreciates having an area in her life where she doesn't need to strive for perfection.

Tony and Bruce try to build a world protection system using a hostile sentient alien magic stone.

Things aren't so good after that.

—

"I was trying to keep everyone safe," Tony says. He's slumped in a chair across from the couch Natasha's curled up on with Pepper.

"Sometimes," Natasha says, tired, so damn tired, "I wish you wouldn't try so hard."

—

The world responds to an attempt to end it. It takes a while for the gears to really start turning, but it's inevitable. The Accords are named after the country where it started and nearly ended.

There's no way to keep them all safe, Natasha thinks, flipping through the thick document and reading between the lines.

She has to try.

—

Pepper and Tony are on a break. Pepper and Natasha aren't, but Pepper's keeping her distance for the moment, like she's worried if she ends up in Tony's vicinity, she'll get pulled back into orbit. Tony and Natasha have never really defined what they are, but Natasha knows she's not Pepper, is never going to fill the same space in his heart. He's never said the L word. He's never thought it in her direction.

Pepper said it, but she said it in the same breath she'd said, "Take care of him for me?"

Natasha can't take care of him, but maybe she can ease the ache. When Tony sleeps—and often he doesn't sleep, spends the night working in the workshop instead—he does so with his face buried in her neck, his body curled around hers like he can make this one person stay, please. His body is heavy. If she shifts, he's quick to draw away. Natasha has to pull him back in, one hand in his hair, the other on the back of his neck.

"I can't lose you, too," Tony admits one night, voice hushed.

"You won't," Natasha says.

It's not a lie. She means it. She doesn't know in that moment that it's not true.

—

"Boy, it must be hard to shake the whole double agent thing, huh?" Tony looks simultaneously like his heart is breaking and like he never wants to see her again. "It sticks in the DNA."

The thing is, Tony wanted to protect them all, too. He tried so hard to keep the Avengers together. He and Natasha are on the same team here. It's just that Natasha knew there was no stopping Steve, not without killing him. He'd just keep going. The only way to protect him was to let him go.

Tony doesn't agree. Or maybe it's that she didn't tell him, made the decision in the moment and let someone else inform him first.

Natasha takes every inconvenient feeling she's experiencing right now and shoves it down, deep, where she can deal with it later. She leaves, but she knows she's not leaving Tony alone. Vision is still around. There's that new kid. Rhodey couldn't be removed from Tony's life with a crowbar and an Iron Man suit. Pepper will come back. She always has before.

Natasha won't be alone, either. She'll have the other half of her team. They're her family, too. She and Tony can split the work of protecting the two sets between them.

—

(She'd rather do it together.)

—

Pepper is freshly engaged when she slides into the seat beside Natasha in a hotel bar. Pepper's on a business trip. There's nothing business about this for Natasha.

"I told you to take care of him," Pepper says after her martini arrives.

"I tried." Natasha sticks to Coke.

"Yeah." Pepper sighs. "I bet you did." She places a carefully manicured hand over Natasha's. "It's hard to love superheros."

"Good thing you're down to one," Natasha says.

"Am I?" Pepper asks. She retrieves a keycard from her purse, places it on the bar between them. "I'm only here for a few nights."

Natasha takes the keycard. They leave the drinks unfinished on the bar.

—

The next business trip, Tony's there, too. He's sitting on the edge of the mattress when she walks in and he looks up with equal parts stubborn belligerence and naked hope in his eyes.

Natasha's not infallible. She should have anticipated this, but she didn't.

"I'll just leave you two to talk, shall I?" Pepper closes the door behind her.

Hesitantly, quietly, Natasha sits next to Tony at the foot of the bed.

"You made the wrong call," Tony says.

"I made the right call, but I should have told you," Natasha says.

"No, you didn't, but yes. You should have." There's an extra force there, a deeper hurt than when they last spoke. Tony rubs a hand over his mouth. "How could you have—" He shakes his head. "It should have been one or the other. If you were never going to tell me, how could you fuck me? And if you were going to keep fucking me, how could you possibly justify not telling me?"

Natasha's confused at first. It's been proven, time and again. She's not infallible. "Tony, I didn't have time to tell you about letting Steve go. I wanted to wait until we got a little privacy, and T'Challa and Ross got there first."

"Not that. I don't—I don't even care about that anymore." Tony slashes a hand through the air. Natasha's mouth goes dry as the penny drops. "I'm talking about Barnes. I'm talking about my parents' murder."

"You didn't know," Natasha says. Tony looks at her with wide, wet eyes. This betrayal bit deeper than the ones preceding it. (It's biting pretty deep for Natasha, too.) "Steve didn't tell you."

"Are you seriously trying to tell me that you didn't know I didn't know?" Tony scoffs.

Natasha stands. She doesn't think this is something Tony's willing to forgive her for.

Tony catches her hand before she can walk away. His eyes are searching. Softer, he repeats her words back to her: "You didn't know. Steve didn't tell you."

"He said he would. I believed him."

Tony squeezes her hand. Natasha can't be sure it isn't an involuntary movement. He says, "Yeah. I'd believe Rhodey, too, if he told me something—and he only had a few years with a hero name meant to invoke truth, justice, and the American way."

"He wasn't lying," Natasha says. She knows it in her bones. Steve was going to tell Tony.

"Didn't get around to it in time." Tony's smile is wry, pained. He's still holding her hand. "Lot of that going around lately."

Natasha knows it won't help, but she says it anyway: "I'm sorry."

"I believe you." Tony tugs at their joined hands, pulls her back down.

Natasha is wrong there, too. The apology helps. When Pepper returns, they're sprawled out on the bed. Tony has his face pressed into Natasha's neck, breathing her in. Pepper's smile is slow, but bright as it steals over her face. She takes off her shoes and jacket and joins them.

—

Things with Steve are awkward, but they work through it. They're sitting on a park bench, watching a throng of passersby. They're on a mission, but there's plenty of waiting around. Steve fills the time with an explanation.

"I was going to tell him, but I could never find the words," Steve says. Then, "I didn't want it to be Bucky. I thought—if it wasn't—" He looks down at his hands. "I messed up. But I can't be sorry for protecting him."

"When I told Fury that Tony was going to be a pain in the ass," Natasha says evenly, "I hadn't met you yet."

"We take turns on this team." Steve's smile is shy, lopsided.

"Next time, I'm telling Tony myself," Natasha says.

"There won't be a next time."

"If I have learned anything," Natasha says as she abandons her end of the bench, "it's that there's always a next time. Come on, I think I see our mark."

Natasha and Tony smoothed over the rough edges of their make-up holding each other in a hotel room bed. Natasha and Steve do it breaking up an international arms ring.

—

Things aren't great, but they're getting better. They're making the long distance thing work. Tony and Pepper go on a lot of overseas business trips, and it works even better in person.

They haven't said it—Natasha doesn't know if she can—but she thinks it all the time. She thinks it when it's Pepper's face on the screen of her phone, when Tony's made a three hour detour several countries over from a business meeting just to have dinner with her, when it's the both of them taking up most of the space on a hotel room bed. She thinks it when Pepper strokes her hair and Tony kisses her shoulder. She thinks it so loud and so often that they have to know.

She doesn't know if she deserves it, but she thinks maybe this could be a happily ever after all.

—

Tony gets on a spaceship headed off planet. It sounds like it's a one way trip. He doesn't think he's coming back.

—

Thanos comes.

They lose.

—

Pepper lives. Steve lives. Clint lives, though he subsequently disappears, off the grid and uninterested in being found. Bruce lives. Rhodey lives.

Natasha has this, the remnants of her family and her team. She tries not to think about the missing faces, even as they're paraded in front of her on the display at the Avengers Compound.

She's allowed to come home.

It's not worth it.

—

When the Benetar appears, Natasha doesn't care about bad habits, about hiding any of it. She's right behind Pepper, then holding up Tony's other side. Tony presses his face first into Pepper's shoulder, then the side of Natasha's neck.

He's heartbreakingly thin. His beard is a mess. He looks terrible, gaunt and guilt-stricken.

He's the best thing Natasha has ever seen.

—

When Natasha get back from killing Thanos, Tony hasn't gotten out of bed. He's taken the IV out again, but hasn't moved otherwise. Natasha's not sure he's even showered. His eyes are closed.

"I'm done," he says when she sits down in the visitor's chair by the bed. He doesn't sound confrontational, just tired. Something's broken in him, and Natasha doesn't think she can fix it.

Natasha folds her hand over his. "You're allowed to be."

"Am I?" Tony asks.

Natasha brings his hand up—thin, still so thin, the skin papery and delicate—and kisses the knuckles. "Yeah. You are."

—

Tony buys a house on a lake with a little farm. "For Pepper," except Pepper is telecommuting where she's not just plain commuting. The world is a mess, and Pepper hasn't given up on fixing it. Neither has Natasha. Tony helps with inventions, with plans to shore up infrastructural problems caused by half the population having disappeared, with everything he can that doesn't require him to leave the house.

He's going through the motions, treading water. Natasha worries he's going to stop moving, that someday she's going to drop by and find out he's drowned.

Natasha spends most of her time at the Avengers Compound. The distance between them is shorter, but it seems much, much further. Tony never visits. If she wants to see him, she has to make the trek out to the lake house. She's afraid to leave the communications hub, afraid something will happen and she won't be there. She needs to be there. Every second she's away from the compound feels like a betrayal.

But every second she leaves him alone feels like a betrayal, too.

—

Pepper and Tony get married when things are a tiny bit more settled, when Tony can walk more than a few steps at a time without needing to stop to catch his breath. It's a small affair, held in the backyard of the lakefront property Tony never leaves. Fairy lights are strung up in the trees. Tony wears a white suit. Pepper's in a simple cream dress. They're both wearing pleased expressions despite the missing faces in the crowd.

Natasha stands up beside Pepper, and her heart aches with how much she wants it to work, the three of them. Rhodey stands up beside Tony and doesn't say anything when Pepper and Tony pull Natasha in after their kiss and give her one each, too.

When Rhodey does, it's when he's getting ready to leave. The rest of the guests are already gone. They're in the living room. There's an empty bottle of champagne and mostly empty glasses on the coffee table. "I'll take over coordinating at the compound for the next few days, let you enjoy your honeymoon."

"It's not my honeymoon," Natasha says, though everyone there knows she's planning to spend the night.

Rhodey snorts. "Technically, that's true, but we all know your name belongs by theirs on the marriage certificate instead of on the witness line." He pats her on the shoulder. Pointedly, he repeats, "Enjoy your honeymoon."

Rhodey goes and says a few quiet words to Pepper, then Tony. He pulls each of them into a hug before he leaves. Tony watches Rhodey walk out the door with a faint smile on his face. He turns to Pepper with a brighter one.

"So. Ms. Potts." Tony says the words like he's savoring them, zero resentment Pepper kept her maiden name.

"Yes, Mr. Stark?" Pepper's own smile is wide, as happy as anyone can be right now.

"What do you say we go upstairs? Maybe get a start on making this marriage official?"

They pause at the bottom of the staircase.

"Natasha?" Pepper says. "Aren't you coming?"

"I'll catch up," Natasha says. She may be spending the night, but she thinks they deserve some time just the two of them, too.

"Don't take too long," Tony says. "We'll finish without you."

"No, we won't," Pepper says.

"Finish, fall asleep fully dressed on top of the covers while we wait. They're like the same thing, right?" Tony leans into the railing on the way up the stairs. He's a little breathless at the top, but keeps going, disappearing down the hall.

Pepper stops partway up. Her smile is softer, more understanding, as she looks down at Natasha. She repeats after Tony, but the words are firmer, more serious. "Don't take too long."

Natasha gives them time, but eventually, inevitably, she follows them up.

—

Natasha finds out first.

"I'm pregnant," Pepper says when she stops by the compound. She doesn't look like this was a pleasant surprise. The lines of her body are stiff. Her lips are pressed thin. She looks afraid.

"Do you …?" Natasha trails off.

"I'm keeping it. I just—" Pepper laughs, sudden, harsh. "This is really, really inconvenient. It would have been even if it weren't the end of the world."

"The world didn't end." It feels like it, most days, but Natasha's telling the truth when she continues, "It changed. We have to change with it."

Pepper's eyes are bright. "I don't know that I can change that much."

"You won't have to." Natasha knows Pepper can do this, that she'll be amazing at anything she puts her mind to. "Do you want company when you tell Tony?"

"Ugh." Pepper wipes at her eyes. "He's already such a mess. I don't know how he's going to take this."

"I'll switch off with Steve."

—

Tony takes the news like someone who's been sleepwalking and is finally waking up. He looks confused, at first, and then there's a dawning sort of awareness, of happiness, like the sun peaking over the horizon.

"I—really? You're really pregnant?" he asks. There's a terrible hope in his eyes, as though this is the lifeline he needs, and he's afraid to grab it, afraid to find out it's all a dream that will dissipate the instant his fingers try to close around it.

"Really. I'm really pregnant," Pepper says.

Tony's smile is sudden, fierce. Natasha hasn't seen him this happy in years. "What happened to no kids?"

"We should have been more careful if we wanted to stick to that."

"I'm going to need to babyproof everything." Tony looks over at Natasha. Without any indication he knows what it means to her, Tony says, voice bright, "Nat, we're going to be _parents_."

"We." The Venn diagram overlaps. Natasha's part of that circle.

Natasha glances at Pepper, but she doesn't seem to see anything wrong with that statement. Pepper's smiling. She says, "I fully expect you to pull your weight. Three of us doesn't mean you get to slack off."

"Honey, I will carry as much weight as you want me to." Tony kisses Pepper. "I'll carry all of it. I'm perfectly happy to be a house husband. It's not like I'm doing anything better with my time."

"Ah, yes, completely revolutionizing delivery systems and infrastructure maintenance to compensate for the lower population. It's like you're doing nothing at all." Pepper's voice is light, teasing. The fear's fallen away.

There's something tight in Natasha's chest, a vice closing, a dragon curling protectively around its hoard. It's not like she has no experience with children. She was Aunt Nat to Clint's for years. (She can't think about what happened to them right now.) But she's never felt like she was in a place to adopt. She never thought she could have this, never thought anyone would want to share it with her.

"It's not running a multinational corporation or global crisis response team, but it keeps me busy." Tony threads the fingers of his left hand through Pepper's and reaches his right out toward Natasha. She takes it. "You know what this means?"

"What does it mean?" Natasha asks quietly.

"Now we get to argue over baby names." Tony sounds entirely too excited about this prospect.

"What happened to Morgan?" Pepper says.

"But what if it's a girl?"

"Morgan could be a girl's name," Natasha offers.

—

Tony baby-proofs the house. He moves most of his workshop to the garage, though he keeps a design table in the living room. Where before he seemed like he was hiding, now he's in full-fledged nesting mode. Some of it's practical. Some of it—

He plans new armor. "Not to fight in. To help with the commute." Tony shows off the designs proudly, like he can't envision a future in which anyone says no. "See, with Pepper's, it'll update automatically each day to account for the baby bump. For you, Nat, I could add more features for you to fight in if you wanted to change your style a little. Nothing like taking danger out from a distance. Either way, you can get to the city or the compound, there and back, in ten, twenty minutes tops."

"I can barely make it down the stairs without throwing up," Pepper says flatly. "You seriously can't expect me to climb into a small, enclosed space and hurtle through the air like it's not inviting disaster."

"That's fair." Tony looks at Natasha. "What about you? Objections? Suggestions? The desire to add a bunch of really big guns? Because Rhodey already did that last bit. He may not like you jacking his style."

"It's just for transport?" Natasha asks.

"Mostly," Tony hedges. "Mostly for transport. And an energy cannon. Just in case. You'll hardly know it's there. And the repulsors are for flight stability, so really, they're not weapons at all. Just a few odds and ends you don't have to use."

"Tony—"

"Please. I just want you safe. Both of you. And if Pepper won't take hers, at least she has a security team, a personal driver, and an SUV that could survive a missile strike."

"We'll talk about what you did to my car later," Pepper says.

Tony glances at her, acknowledges this with a small wince, and looks back at Natasha. "You don't even have to use it. Just carry the casing with you. In case of emergencies or bad traffic."

"Thank you," Natasha says. She takes the casing.

Tony looks surprised it was that easy. He's got an uphill battle with Pepper over the car, though.

—

The new suit comes in handy, and not just for the commute. It's not really Natasha's style, but she adapts. She always adapts, ready to contort herself into whatever new shape is expected of her, is necessary to accomplish her goals. This time, it feels like freedom, like growth.

Natasha's always had her feet planted firmly on the ground when she isn't using her legs to snap someone's neck. Flight in the armor is everything she could have imagined.

"How's it handling?" Tony asks, voice in her ear like they're chatting on the phone instead of racing each other across the lake and back.

"Like a dream." She skims the surface of the water. "Like I don't want to wake up."

Tony's quiet a moment. His face is visible in the corner of the HUD. He bites his lip. His eyes shine with something unspoken. He's usually more guarded than this, makes her work for it. He's forgotten she can see past the faceplate now. His voice is steady as he says, "Let me know if that changes." He darts up beside her and taps her shoulder. He cracks a smile. "Tag, you're it. Let's really break that armor in."

It takes a while, but Natasha eventually tackles him into the lake.

—

Natasha moves to the lake house. They set up a secondary communication hub in the garage for emergencies.

She stays overnight at the compound whenever there's a particular need and she spends the majority of most days coordinating things from there when she's not elsewhere putting out metaphorical fires.

But … she doesn't have to stay 24/7 anymore. She doesn't want to.

She keeps looking for Clint. She keeps up with her team. She does her best as current team leader. She tries to make a difference. And at the end of the day, she goes home.

Tony and Pepper are there to welcome her. Soon enough, Morgan is, too.

—

When Lang shows up, they fight about it.

"It's not possible," Tony says, "and even if it were—" He shakes his head. "I can't risk it. You know that. _You know that_ , Nat."

"Tony." Natasha puts a hand on his forearm. He's got his arms crossed. He won't look at her. "If there's a chance, however small—"

Tony jerks away. "There's not. We can't. I can't."

Tony goes back in the house after inviting their surprise guests to dinner. Natasha goes back to the compound for the night.

Pepper, amazing, wonderful Pepper, somehow convinces him anyway.

—

"I thought you were out," Natasha says when Tony walks into the compound with Steve, who has his shield back.

Tony's smile is wry. "What can I say? I never learn."

When he passes by, he catches her hand in his. Natasha squeezes it in the instant before she lets go. They walk to the conference room side by side.

—

They suit up for the time heist. Tony presses a kiss to her mouth before they go.

"For luck," he says.

Natasha touches his cheek. "When have I ever needed luck?"

Tony grins. "Who said it's for you?"

—

Turns out Natasha needs the luck after all.

"If this doesn't work—" It looks like it's killing Clint to contemplate a scenario where they fail, but he forges forward. "If this doesn't work, you have a family, Nat. You have to go back to them."

It's not that simple. Clint's her family, too.

They fight. Natasha thinks she's won when they're dangling off the side of the cliff, the only thing between her and open air Clint's hand wrapped around her arm.

"It's okay," Natasha says. She smiles, tries to make it easy on him.

Clint smiles back at her. His lips are trembling. She can see in his eyes he knows she's planning to kick off. "It is. It's okay, Nat."

Clint pulls a knife from his belt and cuts the line. They fall together. He tries to get under her. She knows what he's thinking, knows he's hoping that will be enough that whatever mystical power is in play will take him instead. Tony didn't make the suit for this, trying to win a fight over who gets to play the sacrifice, but Natasha activates it, hits the repulsors just in time to keep them from crashing into the water with deadly force. They land in a tangle and a shallow splash.

"What the hell," Clint says.

The cliff is gone. But when Clint draws his hand back from where he was clutching Natasha's arm, he's holding the Soul Stone.

"Looks like the guardian was full of it," Natasha says breathlessly.

"Looks like," Clint says.

They start laughing. Clint throws his arms around her, and Natasha rubs his back when he starts to cry.

—

"We're not telling anyone about this," Natasha says before they return.

"Oh, no." Clint's eyes are bloodshot, but he's smiling. "I'm telling _everyone_ about this."

Natasha curses low. Tony might understand, but Pepper's not going to be happy.

—

Things happen very quickly after that.

They bring everyone back. Thanos attacks. Natasha nearly gets crushed helping Bruce hold up a building. There's a battle. Tony nearly kills himself trying to save them all.

Things happen very quickly, but somehow Natasha has time to think, to remember.

Natasha heard this story from Rocket, once, when they were reminiscing about friends dead and gone. It was about the Power Stone and the Guardians of the Galaxy, how they got their name. On the surface, it was a story about Ronan, about Thanos lurking in the background, but really it was a story about friendship, about family.

"So then this idiot, he starts dancing," Rocket said. " _Dancing._ Like, what's that going to do? Only, that's what that douchebag Ronan thinks, too. And Quill, stupid, smart Quill, he says, 'I'm distracting you,' which is the point we hit him with the big gun." Rocket looked down, smiling. "Didn't work, but we got the stone off him, and then Quill, he grabs it. Should've killed him." Rocket's eyes were shining. "Nearly did, but the rest of us, this bunch of absolute morons, we link hands, share the power out between us. Ronan bites it, but somehow the rest of us survive."

That's what she thinks about as she sees Tony bring his hand up, as the power wracks his body. She has the suit. Compared to her morning commute, getting to Tony's side is nothing. She grabs his free hand, feels the surge of power lock her into place. She has one hand out, behind her. Tony is about to snap his fingers.

"Can't believe I'm gonna do this a second time," Rocket says, and his tiny paw slips into her hand.

She doesn't see it when Groot grabs Rocket, but she does see Groot's vines reach out, touch other people. Carol has a set of vines around her arm as she clasps hands with Valkyrie. Thor puts a hand on Valkyrie's shoulder, his eyes lit with lightning. Bruce touches the awkward chain of people with his good hand. Clint once again doesn't hesitate to throw himself off the metaphorical cliff. Okoye takes hold of a branch and links hands with Shuri. All over the battlefield, in the bare instant they have, people tap in, share out the excess power.

When Tony snaps, it's painful—it's agony—but when the dust settles, they're all alive.

—

Clint keeps his promise. Pepper is exactly as impressed with their self-sacrificial streaks as Natasha expected she'd be. Pepper waits until they're home to bring it up, but she's no happier for waiting.

"I can't believe both of you—" she starts, then stops. She glares at Tony. "Okay, you, maybe—" She directs her glare to Natasha. "But you? Really?"

"In all fairness, we were trying to save the world," Tony says.

"Which is why no one is sleeping on the couch."

"I don't think we'd both fit," Natasha says.

"Maybe _I'd_ sleep on the couch," Pepper says.

"Don't sleep on the couch. Hap still has the kid. This is the time for victory s—" Tony cuts off at Pepper's expression. "… For victory cuddles?" He pouts. " _We saved the world_."

"What about 'I'm glad you're alive' sex?" Natasha asks.

"I shouldn't be rewarding this." That is an expression that says that Pepper is definitely going to be rewarding this. "You're terrible. You're both terrible. I can't believe I fell in love with two people who'd sacrifice themselves at the drop of a hat."

Tony's smile is too big for his face. "But you do love us."

"I do," Pepper agrees.

Natasha still can't say it, has never been able to speak the words aloud, but she thinks it as she kisses Pepper, as Tony draws them both into his arms, as their hands bump into each other before they click back into place, teamwork and familiarity taking the wheel.

—

They're curled up in bed when Tony finally says it. He's got his head on Pepper's shoulder. He's holding Natasha's hand. "It makes me a hypocrite, but please never, ever do that again." His eyes are closed. "If one of us has to lay down on the wire, I'd rather it be me."

"I'd rather it be no one," Pepper says.

"You said your piece. It's my turn." Tony cracks his eyes open to look at Natasha. He swallows. His voice is rough when he says, "Please. For me. Find another way."

Natasha's throat is tight, but her own voice is light and teasing when she says, "Why, Tony, that almost sounds like you like me."

"I do." Tony squeezes her hand. "Like isn't a big enough word for it, actually."

Oh, Natasha thinks.

Tony brings her hand up to his mouth, kisses it. "I'm kind of in love with you, Natashalie Rushmanoff. So I'd very much appreciate it if you took better care of yourself."

"'Kind of'?" Natasha says.

"A little," Tony says, like they're agreeing. He's smiling now. "Just a bit."

"'Natashalie Rushmanoff'?" Natasha continues as she pulls her hand away.

"You look like you're upset. I just told you I loved you. You're not allowed to be mad at me. There's a rule about that."

"There's not a rule about that," Pepper says. She's also smiling.

"There _should be_ a rule about that," Tony says.

"That was the worst love confession I've ever heard," Natasha says flatly. "And I was there when Clint proposed to Laura."

"She said yes. How bad could it have been?"

"She said no and asked him herself six months later. It's a wonder they ever got married." Natasha doesn't have trouble holding her frown, though she feels like she could fly right now, no armor necessary. Tony's made her wait over a decade. He can do better.

"Fair." Tony takes her hand back. "Why don't you show me how it's done? I can learn by example."

Natasha has another teasing reply lined up, but—

She wants to make him work for it, but—

She's never been able to say it, but—

Pepper's watching with eyes gone soft. Tony raises his head from Pepper's shoulder as Natasha shifts closer. Natasha lifts her free hand to cup his jaw. His eyes widen incrementally as she draws in a deep breath. Natasha quirks a small smile and says, quiet, but infusing all the warmth that she feels into the words, "I'm kind of in love with you, too, Tony Stark."

"I take your point." Tony's smile stretches across his face. "That was terrible." He drops her hand to pull her in, palm resting heavy at the nape of her neck. His voice is soft, reverent, as he says, "God, I love you."

—

"I can't believe that took you nine years," Pepper says a little while later, when they're all sweaty and out of breath again.

"I can't believe she still hasn't said it back," Tony says.

"I can't believe I fell in love with both of you," Natasha says.

There are no guarantees. The last five years proved that. Maybe it's not a happily ever after, but right now? Natasha is terribly, tremendously happy. It's enough.


End file.
